


Bring Out All the Love You Hide

by apatternedfever



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Light BDSM, Multi, Polyamory, Reverse Chronological Order, Waxplay, bad reaction to bondage, hp_ssc_fest, long-term threesome
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-02
Updated: 2012-05-02
Packaged: 2017-11-04 17:13:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,808
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/396236
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/apatternedfever/pseuds/apatternedfever
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>(or, Seven Conversations About One Thing)</p><p>Dean and Luna, through the years.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bring Out All the Love You Hide

**Author's Note:**

> Many, many, many thanks to both of my betas, [](http://deirdre-aithne.livejournal.com/profile)[**deirdre_aithne**](http://deirdre-aithne.livejournal.com/) and [](http://xvivavivacious.livejournal.com/profile)[**xvivavivacious**](http://xvivavivacious.livejournal.com/). They were both amazing and quick. Originally written for the HP BDSMfic fest (hp_ssc_fest at livejournal) and posted September 2010, though this entire thing ended up much more focused on Dean and Luna as polyamorous than I expected it to.
> 
> Please note that this fic includes both a brief scene of a bad reaction to bondage, and one of someone being anti-polyamory.

_July 9th, 2036_

The sound of the door opening in the otherwise silent house pulls Dean out from near sleep. His fingers continue tracing light circles on Luna's shoulder as he shifts, trying to ward off the numbness in his leg without moving it from beneath her, and listens to the footsteps on the stairs. For a moment he wonders if it might be Helena, if she's already homesick after four days. As much as he'd love to see his girl, he's planned to spend the rest of the week enjoying his wife and their newly empty house. There's a clattering sound, like keys dropping, at the top of the stairs; the annoyed mumble that follows makes it clear that it's Neville, and Dean smiles.

"Took you long enough, mate," he says as the door opens, though half of it gets lost to a yawn. "We were starting to wonder if you were coming at all."

"A new plant showed up this morning," Neville says by way of an apology, stumbling as he tries to remove his shoes without sitting down.

"Does it do anything interesting?" The sleepiness in Dean's voice is reflected in Luna's. She sits up to receive a greeting kiss from Neville, and Dean regrets the loss of her warmth and weight on his hip. "The ties are in the usual drawer, if you're ready to begin."

"Lots of things!" Neville begins eagerly, moving to the dresser next to Dean. Dean sits up, stretching, and slides over towards the edge of the bed.

"That's my cue." He kisses Luna and stands up, getting a kiss of his own from Neville when he does. "You can tell us about it later, yeah?"

He doesn't wait for affirmation before starting for the door, grabbing his clothes on the way. By the time he's out of the shower he can hear them, already eagerly going about things, and he smiles as he passes on his way to the stairs. They'll be done soon, and it sounds like Neville didn't have time for breakfast either.

\--

_February 12th, 2016_

"Dean."

Dean's already said his last goodbye to Lorcan and has his jacket halfway on when Hermione's voice stops him. He sighs quietly before turning around, recognizing the firm tone. He has his suspicions about the conversation she's stopping him for, and it's one he doesn't feel the need to have. For what's got to be the hundredth time, he curses Seamus in his head for forgetting that he'd agreed to watch the kids and sticking them with Ron and Hermione. He doesn't mind them -- they're good parents, and good friends to have -- but Hermione's inflexible about anything outside her realm of understanding. And Luna's always fallen a bit outside her realm of understanding.

"I saw Luna and Susan last weekend at the Leaky Cauldron," Hermione began, confirming Dean's suspicions immediately.

"Last time I checked, people were supposed to spend time with their friends."

"It wasn't a friendly dinner," Hermione said firmly. She looked down at Maeve, shifting the sling, and her expression softened. "Dean, it's obvious how much Luna loves you, despite everything. I'm certain if you talked to her, if you told her you didn't--"

"What, want her to enjoy herself? Hermione, I don't mind. I don't," he repeats when she opens her mouth to argue. "I can't give her everything she wants. Other people can."

"I'm sure she'd be fine without it, whatever it is, if you asked--"

"But that's the point. I don't want to ask. I'm happy with things the way they are."

"You're happy that your wife is sleeping with other people," Hermione repeats, and sounds as if she's waiting for him to see the flaw in the statement. Dean smiles.

"Yeah. I am." When her look doesn't change, he sighs. "Hermione, look at our lives. One day a stranger came to the door and told you that you were a witch. We spent seven years in a castle with ghosts, staircases that moved, and talking portraits, under the watch of a man over a century old, and a woman who can turn into a cat. We were war heroes before we were twenty. We've met werewolves, goblins, pixies.... You admitted that there could be a Crumple-Horned Snorkack, and _this_ is what you're going to decide is impossible?"

She doesn't answer, and he only gives her a moment before he leans forward and kisses his daughter on the forehead. "I need to go. My wife is waiting for me. Goodnight, Hermione."

\--

_January 27th, 2013_

"Neville!" Dean grins and pulls Neville into a hug that nearly knocks the smaller man off-balance. "We weren't expecting you! Did Luna tell you the news yet?"

Neville nods, and hesitates. "That's why I'm here." He looks nervous, Dean realizes, and his smile fades, the cheerfulness he's had since finding out about the baby dampened for the moment.

"It's not to congratulate us, is it." It's not a questions and Neville doesn't bother to answer it, hesitating again before he starts, running a hand through his hair. He's starting to go grey.

"Dean," he starts, and hesitates again. When the words come out, they come out in a rush. "I know you were comfortable with things before -- well, you're going to be _parents_ and things aren't going to be the same. Luna says -- but well, I know Luna, and between time and -- you're parents now, I mean, you're going to be, and I can stop seeing her if you want me to."

Neville's turning red, and Dean resists the urge to laugh because he doesn't want to scare him off. He respects Neville, and he'd trust the man with his life, but when it comes to certain topics, especially sex, it seems like Neville never entirely stopped being a teenager. He puts a hand on Neville's shoulder and looks him in the eye. "Neville, Luna's a grown woman. She may have a few odd ideas, but she knows what she likes, and she knows what she wants. And I respect that. There's things she wants that I don't, and I respect that, too. That's why we worked things out the way we did. There's no reason for a kid to change that. If Luna says she wants to keep seeing you, then I'm not going to stop it." He grins, and Neville looks thrown off. "Besides, it's not like she'll let me stop her. Been too long for that."

Neville smiles, slightly, and nods. Dean can feel him relax as he takes his hand away.

"Dean? Hello, Neville." He turns to look at Luna as she calls him, standing at the bottom of the stairs. She didn't bother to put clothes on before coming downstairs, and she doesn't bother to cover herself up when she sees the visitor. "Are you coming back to bed? Neville can come too, if you don't mind it; I think it would be nice."

Neville's wide-eyed as Dean turns back to him, about to reassure him he's thinking nothing of the sort, but he sees Neville's expression as he looks between the two of them and changes his mind. It could be interesting, and he's heard a few stories from Luna that make him curious just how talented Neville actually is, despite his shyness. "Well? Do you want to?"

Nevile gulps, and looks behind him like he's getting ready to run; and then he nods, and takes two quick steps inside instead. Luna claps in delight, and Dean smiles as he closes the door.

\--

_November 16th, 2007_

It's been two weeks since the ceremony, and Dean keeps forgetting things are, technically, different now. The ceremony was so small and quiet that the disruption to their normal lives only lasted a few days, and now the only reminder is the rings. He keeps fiddling with his, not used to the feel of it on his finger, and smiling when he realizes what he's doing. It's silly, because Luna's no more or less his now that they're married than she was before, but he remembers his mother's hints about finding a nice girl and settling down, and it feels good to know he's got the greatest girl he's ever known.

He looks up when Luna walks into the kitchen, letting his hands drop. "I'll be home tomorrow," she says simply. He pulls her to him before she can walk out again, kisses her lightly and wraps his arms around her. His hand slides under her shirt, across her arm, running over her skin. Tomorrow he might have to be careful when he does this, if her night with Kathy goes the same as the last time, and he makes a quick mental note to pick up the anti-scarring potions they're out of.

"Have fun," he says when he lets go of her. "Tell Kathy I'll see her at the match next week."

"I will."

His smile grows as he watches her walk out of the room. His beautiful wife.

\--

_September 19th, 2006_

Dean holds his breath as he tilts the candle, trying to keep his hand steady. The red wax joins the colors already striped and dotted across Luna's back. He picks up the blue candle and Luna lets out a quiet, delighted gasp when the wax falls unexpectedly across the back of her thigh. He hadn't planned on expanding, but the pattern on her back is perfect as it is and he's not ready to stop. He runs an ice cube down across her thigh and follows it with another stripe of wax, leaning forward as he puts down the candle to press a kiss against the back of her neck.

She turns her head and smiles, and he wishes her could see her eyes, the contentment that must be in them under that blindfold. He kisses her cheek and runs a hand over the blindfold, considering.

"I'm yours," she reminds him, slightly breathless as she says it. "If that's what you want, do it. Anything you want."

He pauses, playing with the ends of her hair for a moment, thoughtful. "You like that, do you? Having to do what I want?"

She answers without hesitation. "Yes."

"It doesn't scare you? That I could do anything to you, and you wouldn't be able to see what I'm about to do?"

"You wouldn't do anything to hurt me," she says gently. "I wouldn't let you put it on if I thought you would."

He smiles, and releases the knot on the blindfold, leaning forward to kiss her, to look at her. "Anything I want," he muses.

"That was the bet," she says.

"And I did win it." He runs a nail down her back, careful even as he scratches harder than he normally would, and she gasps again. "Well, I think to start with we get rid of this."

\--

_June 8th, 2002_

"I've found a solution," Luna says as they're eating dinner, and Dean has no idea what she means.

It might be something to do with her work, but he's not aware of any problems she's been working on. He doesn't think she mentioned anything else, although admittedly he hasn't paid that much attention to the conversation tonight. He's nervous. He thinks it's warranted, though. It's not as though he's asked anyone to move in with him before. Even if it's Luna, and she's wonderful and she's different and they've been seeing each other happily for almost two years, he's still scared to ask.

"A solution?" he repeats when she doesn't elaborate and he still has no idea what she means.

"To our problem." When he stares blankly at her and makes it clear he has no idea what she means, she continues. "To your problem with tying me up or hurting me and my desire to have either or both of those things done." She finishes her sentence with a tidy bite of fish and having this conversation in the back corner of their favorite restaurant is very surreal, Dean thinks.

"Have you?" he asks, because he can't think of anything else to say.

"Yes. Somebody else can do it."

"Somebody else?" For a second he's certain she's saying she wants to break up with him, and his chest hurts, and then she continues talking.

"There are people who enjoy tying up or hurting their sexual partners, or being tied up or hurt, which I wouldn't mind trying either, I think. I know a few people who are interested in it and I'm certain I can find others. I can go to them when that's what I want, and we can continue our sexual practices, which are quite enjoyable most of the time, when it isn't."

The absurd amounts of relief he feels that she apparently still wants to go out with him is tampered by confusion at what she's suggesting. "So you would just... go have sex with someone else when you wanted something?"

"Yes." She makes it sound simple, and Dean's pretty sure it's something that's not supposed to be simple. Luna is watching him, waiting for an answer, and he can't think of a reason why it shouldn't be as simple as it sounds. He thinks about Luna in bed with someone else, waits to be jealous and angry at just thinking about it, but he isn't.

"Maybe," he says, carefully. "Can I think about it? Maybe we can talk about it more?"

"Of course we will." Luna sounds as though she's baffled he'd even have to ask, and Dean relaxes, reaching across the table to take her hand.

He watches her in silence for a moment, turning things over in his head, and decides now's as good a time as any. "Hey, Luna?"

"Yes?"

"Do you want to move in with me?"

She smiles. "I would, thank you," she says, and Dean breaks into a grin.

\--

_December 8th, 2001_

Dean leans his forehead against the cold window, waiting for his heart to slow down. He should turn around, go back in there. He should at least let Luna loose, probably put on his shirt and go home. But he can't go in there again, not right now, not with her tied up. Even if he's going in to untie her.

He's shaking, he realizes, and presses his hand against the window.

It can't be more than five minutes when Luna leans against him and wraps her arms around his waist. He jumps and then feels even more foolish.

"You got out," he says, even though it's obvious.

"You didn't tie me very tightly," Luna says, and Dean closes his eyes and tries not to think about her tied up, or about ropes against his skin. "It's alright," she says, pressing a kiss against his back. "I understand."

"I'm sorry," he says quietly, and she presses her cheek against his skin. "It -- I didn't mean to run out."

"It upset you," she says, calmly. "I should apologize."

"You don't have to."

"Alright." She lets go of him and he expects her to leave, to go make tea or sit down or maybe get his shirt and tell him to go. Instead she moves so that she's in front of him, her bare back to the window, looking up at him with those wide blue eyes of hers. "It reminded you of being caught, didn't it?"

"I--" He almost starts to deny it, because it still sounds so stupid to him, but he stops himself and nods instead. "It did." He doesn't look her in the eye. "I'm sorry, it's--"

"I understand," she says, again, and leans up to kiss his jaw. "You had an upsetting experience being tied up. I was even a part of it. It's sensible."

He looks at her, waiting for her to be kidding, but she's not, and she takes advantage of him looking down to kiss him properly.

"We won't do that again," Luna says decisively, and he nods, relieved. "We can do something else instead."

"You don't mind?" he asks, even though it feels like tempting fate. "You wanted this and I -- I don't think I can do any of it."

"It seems as though it would be a desirable quality in a lover that he has difficulty hurting me, doesn't it?" Dean laughs, because he hadn't quite thought of it that way but when Luna says it, yeah, it makes sense. "I'll think of something else."

He kisses her again, letting himself enjoy her mouth, her hands on his sides, her body pressing closer to him for warmth. "I love you," he says.

"I love you too." She rests her check against his chest for a moment, shivering when his hand, cold from the window, touches her skin. "Can we go back to bed now?"

He nods, kissing the top of her head. "Yeah. Let's go."


End file.
